Mirror Mirror
by Elphaba05
Summary: Dean and Sam on another whirlwind adventure, but when the unexpected happens to Dean, will they be able to over come it? Ps. I've reread the story and have decided to re write the fourth chapter taking out the Dean being bi part. It doesn't really fit.
1. Mirror Mirror

A/N: Hey guys! Don't hate me, this is my first supernatural fic. Some serious high fives all around for Dancing Fiyero who revised this chapter (and co-authored the up coming chapters.) Please read and review!

Disclaimer: Don't own them, wish I did, but I don't...sigh If only I could have a Sam and Dean all my own. _DF Note: Well, to share, darling._

Chapter One:

Sick of Driving

Sam looked out the passenger side window, watching the yellow line disappear behind them. They'd been driving for three days now and the thought of sleeping in the car again wasn't appetizing. With no time for long meals, Dean and Sam had been eating in the car, and it was getting gross.

"Umm, Dean?"

"Yuh-huh."

"Look, at the risk of sounding juvenile, are we there yet?"

"Patience, my young padawan." Sam scoffed and Dean continued. "We've got another seventy miles and we're California. From there it's only another day or so." Dean smirked as he drove, eyes fixed on the road, since it was the only changing scenery and he was getting tired of studying Sam.

"Another day? Gimmie a break! Look, it's lunchtime so can we grab a bite? Maybe sit down someplace? It's about time to shovel some of the garbage out of here-- that hamburger back there is starting to rot."

"Aww, some over ripe meat scaring you?"

"Shut up Dean." Sam crossed his arms huffily over his chest, trying to suppress a smile as he did so. Dean could be such an ass some times…most of the time actually, but even after 37 states and nine months, Sam wasn't tired of his company. Funnily enough, Sam's nightmares were eased somewhat in the car. They weren't as frequent or as detailed, because he knew when he woke up Dean would be there, brow knitted together with worry, with one hand on the wheel and one hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Somebody's a thundercloud today." When they were kids and Sam got into a huff, Dean would call him thundercloud in a ridiculous voice and his younger brother would break out in peels of giggles. Today wasn't any different, aside from the fact that Sam tried to be a bit more dignified and exchanged the giggles for an enthusiastic chortle.

"You're such an ass." He said, lips pursed tightly to keep more laughter at bay.

"Yes, yes I am. Thank you. And what an ass-"

"I meant it to be derogatory."

"Well that's just me turning a frown upside down." Dean reached over and ruffled his brothers hair affectionately, but the horn of a passing car brought his attention back to the road. "You say nothing." Sam simply smiled and closed his eyes, resting his head on the strap of his seatbelt, and slipped into a sweet dreamless sleep.

The women's bathroom door swung open and out stepped Dean looking disgruntled, wiping his hands on his jeans.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" Bits of sandwich hung out of Sam's mouth as he tried to talk and chew, he never was an accomplished multi-tasker.

"It's true what people say, the women's bathroom is incomparable to the vortex of poor hygiene that is our washroom. They have soap and paper towel and everything."

"And yet you're still wiping your hands on you pants. Classy."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"So what'd you order me?" asked Dean looking down at his…sandwich? Burger? He poked it experimentally wondering if it might bite back. Of all the restaurants he'd been in all his long years this was approaching the scuzziest, and he'd been to Jersey.

"Grull'd heese amd ham." Sam said no more, deciding that his lunch didn't need any help escaping, especially since it didn't seem to be fully dead yet. In retrospect, a steak sandwich wasn't such a stellar idea.

"Oh, and the fact that I hate ham didn't cross your mind?" Dean accused, taking a colossal bite out of it and wiping the grease off his chin. Sam finished before him and reclined as far as he could on the stiff benches, picking his teeth with a business card

"Delicate flower you are," laughed Dean, but Sam ignored him.

"So, we hear anything strange about this place? It's usually about now that we attract some sort of paranormal vengeance, isn't it? Forty five minutes is pretty standard." Sam was agitated about something, his brother could always tell: he fidgeted restlessly, crossing and uncrossing his feet at the ankles, shifting uneasily every five seconds.

"Funny enough, I have heard a few things." He desperately wished he could have said anything else to Sam; 'Nope, not a thing.' But there was always something. Sam couldn't ever have a normal life, he was waist deep in this now. Mind you, so was Dean, but he'd never wanted a normal life. Sam was the selfless crusader who wanted to find his Dad, kill the thing that got his mother and Jessica and put this all down for good, become a school teacher, have kids and a life. That'd be cruel, thought Dean to himself, even if he did manage to have kids and all that, they'd just be dragged into this, and their kids, and theirs. Shivers went up Dean's spine thinking about doomed generations.

"What things?"

"Huh? Oh…" Once again Sam snapped him lose of his thoughts, which was good, thought didn't become someone like Dean. He was all rough and tumble 'shoot ya before you know I'm there', tall dark and broody type. "Right, umm, there was rumors about a demon Duke, Bathin, growing some of his crazy demon weed. It's called mathios, it keeps him young. Bad dude in a large way, but usually not a human threat."

"Usually?"

"Yeah, usually, but here it seems he kinda gathering some sorta human groupie cult. Basic ego trip."

"Okay, so the problem here is?"

"I don't think people go willingly. I dunno, but most people get freaked by a ten foot hog-bat, or is that just me?" Dean continued to devour his lunch, trying not to let it sit too long in his mouth lest he taste something. Sam sighed and threw his hands behind his head closing his eyes wearily smirking sweetly, it could have been a smile- it would have been two years ago but it broke (whether 'it' was Sam or the smile was a question for later). There was a tortured puppy quality to his brother, Dean mused, a sort of 'I'll follow you and bring you roses and chocolates if you love me' kinda vibe. Dean preferred the blunt 'shag me' option. Sam's chest heaved suddenly, his eyes flittering under closed lids, fingers tightening on his crossed arms. He was dreaming, it didn't take long for Mr. Narcoleptic to fall asleep these days.

"Sam." Nothing. "Sam!" not even a little response. "Sammy!" Nada. "Hey dad."

Sam bolted up right looking around, obviously disoriented. "I fell asleep?"

"Yes genius. Do I have to drug you before you actually sleep?"

"Can you?"

"No."

"Oh." Sam could deal with monsters, blood and decay, hey, just another day in the life. But letting someone down, failing, that was damned scary. Dean knew that it wasn't Sam's fault, he couldn't have helped Jessica anymore than he could have helped their mother as an infant.

"You know we need to talk right?" Dean smiled gently as he could, replacing the usual snide smirk with genuine affection, which was kinda like listening to Mickey Mouse talk through Stephen Segul. Of course he _felt_ genuine affection for his brother but showing it just wasn't manly, not now that they were both grown ups. When they were kids Sam used to slip his hand into Deans, sucking on the corner of his shirt when he was really nervous about something. It was so cute, thought Dean, but they were both much older and handholding wasn't a good thing for brothers to do…neither was sucking on your collar for that matter or…your…brothers... Moving on. There was something about being someone's big brother that feeds a fierce protectiveness, a pulsing need to hide your sibling from the dark, which made his job so incredibly hard. Sam was a big boy now and knew the ins and outs of demonic eradication, but it was difficult to listen to weapons cut through Sam's flesh, and impossible to watch him sink to his knees, eyes shut tight in pain, the corner of his mouth bleeding like everything else. Dean had to shake the thought. He had his own nightmares.

"Yeah, I know. I guess I owe that to you now huh?" Sam knew just when to interrupt.

"Oh hell yah. Let's play the check and get going. You know for a meal like that we should be getting the cash." They laughed as Sam tossed a ten on the table and walked out to the car, the bell of the door clanging behind them.


	2. Must or Bust

A/N: Hey guys! I'm back and with better grammar thanks to dancing fiyero (a really stellar author-love of mine). Thanks to all the reviewers you guys are awesome, I hope this doesn't disappoint you. Sorry it's so short. The next is hyper long, promise!

Chapter Two:

Must or Bust

_Flick flick_ Dean batted at his keys in the ignition waiting for Sam to get back with a new map. Their old one bit the dust after an unfortunate dispute over directions, in the end they discovered that two maps certainly weren't better than a whole one. Sam stood outside the tourism building with the map in his hands engaged in a conversation with a local man who looked about their age. Said man was pointing off to the east, Sam nodding and taking notes on the palm of his hand with a pilfered ball point pen they'd lifted from the bank. _Flick flick_ Dean irritation was starting to bubble over like a hot bubbly mass of…bubbles. Okay anger subsiding, thought Dean trying to picture an indignant bubble. The slam of the car door brought his attention back to the unfrothy present where Sam sat staring at the dashboard blankly, his eyes looked ages older than the rest of him. 

"You okay?" He reached over from the driver's seat and squeezed Sam shoulder lightly.

"Yeah, fine, peachy really." Sarcasm and witty retorts were becoming more common with Sam though he was no where near as practiced as Dean. Still, something in Dean regretted the attitude change, Sam used to be so…Happy.Sure, hewas a lot more fun to talk to without his snow-white-and-the-happy-elves perspective on life, but he was like a younger version of Dean. Realization dawned on him, albeit slowly justdictated by his nature, Sam wasn't cut out for this job at all but he'd have to learn for his own sake. Dean could teach him the moves and techniques, strategies and lore but no matter how well he protected Sam he'd end up resenting his older brother ever so subtly (maybe even subconsciously) like Dean resented their Dad.

"Hey? You in there?" The younger Winchester was waving his hand in front of Dean's eyes jokingly but it was about to make him nauseous.

"Yes, I hear you, and if you make he hurl in my own car I'll make you clean every violated inch of her."

"You're such a freak. It's called personification. Dean, it just a car."

"Shhh, quiet" he stroked the wheel affectionately "She'll hear you!"

"Okay I'm sorry…"

"Beatrice." Dean supplied Sam with his beloved's name.

"I'm sorry Beatrice." For a few moments they sat in a content silence. Everything seemed so much more bearable now more than ever. They joked and laughed, they stuck up for each other (and on occasion were each other's wingman) but most importantly they had each other's backs no matter the situation. Trying feebly to suppress a warm fuzzy feeling Dean revved the engine and squealed the tires leaving skid tracks ten feet long out of the parking lot.

A few moments later Sam was wedged against the car door and the headrest, eyes closed but still not quite asleep as he felt the need to quip up.

"You know, you could have given her a better name, Beatrice sucks balls of yarn!"

"Balls of yarn? Holy hell, I refuse to be related to you! Balls of yarn, that awful."

"What, I'm trying to be somewhat…"

"Nerdy?"

"Civil, I don't need to be vulgar to get my point across."

"Okay college boy, but I'll have you know that vulgarity in place of 'Balls of yarn' will keep you from wedgies, swirlies and most other bodily harms." Dean smirked over at Sam, though Sam's eyes were still reluctantly shut. He's just a kid in his brother's eyes mostly because right now he looked like one. Sam hair was ruffled up from trying to sleep when a) he knew full well that sleep would result in serious nightmares, and b) he was sleeping in a space that was clearly not for sleeping in. Beatrice was a chick magnet car, not the family van. Headlights of passing cars cast shadows on his slackened face like Dean's flashlight used to. When they were kids, back when they shared their room, Dean would always flick on his flashlight halfway though the night to make sure that Sam was there and okay. Let's say that chronic nightmares weren't recent, besides it was an older brother's duty to worry about his siblings a right even. Back then Sam had such a mouseketeer attitude to life, so happy. There's that word again, happy. How did Dean know that Sam was unhappy aside from Jessica being dead and not being able to talk with his friends and Dad being gone and for being hunted by the cops for dozens of cases of fraud? He must be miserable, concluded Dean letting his question answer itself.

The next morning Sam stretched out yawning and pushing the covers off his bare chest, wait, blankets? BARE CHEST? My god I've been kidnapped! Panic flares in the moments before Dean walks in the room with a bundle of laundry in hand.

"Morning." Dean says brightly.

"Don't do shit like this!" Sam was exasperated but relieved, even more so when he found that Dean had left his boxers on and alone.

"Like what? Find you a clean and horizontal place to sleep?"

"I thought-"

"That a demon had stolen away with you in the night to his dark and sinister lair at the motel 6? I don't think so dude, nothing's that weird."

"I just didn't know where you were."

I take it back he doesn't look like a kid, he looks like a dejected puppy. But that's as far as he can bring himself to joke because Sam does something out of character that throws Dean slightly. He cries. Not wracking girly sobs, just relieved and overwhelmed tears leaking unasked for down his cheeks.

"Sammy, I'm sorry. I should have woken you up it's just-…I didn't wanna chance ruining a good thing."

"Yeah, it's okay, I really needed it anyway. But next time leave a note? And my clothes?"

"Sure thing little bro. So, what do you say to some toast and juice?" Gentle thumbs brush the rebellious tears away and warm arms wrapped Sam up tightly in a hug. It's days like these that he was glad he didn't set the little mutant adrift when they were younger.

Sam's stomach grumbled loudly and they both laughed.

"Breakfast now?"

"I don't think they have a full continental but I'm sure we could rummage something up." And just to spoil things the phone rings. With a quick and exasperated flip of the phone cover, Dean answered. How to spoil a brotherly moment? Technology. Great.

"Yello? Dean here."

Sam watched the one sided conversation still wiping the left over tears off his face, which was now a lovely splotchy red color. Dean would give some sort of affirmative noise and then a slur of mumbles would come from the other side. Sam flopped back onto the cool bed and pulled the covers up to his shoulders, then flipped over onto his stomach and buried his head under the pillow, another childhood habit. See, they had this cat named Alice, she was soft and friendly but really pushy. When Sam was a baby Alice would try to sleep on Sam's pillow and when the baby wouldn't move his fat head Alice would sleep on it instead. She didn't do this once or twice, it was every night for sixteen years. So naturally now Sam isn't accustomed to sleeping without some sort of weight on his head, how he doesn't suffocate is any ones guess.

The younger Winchester inhaled deeply and stretched waiting for his brother to get off the phone. The room smelled like clean laundry, clean but damp, Dean never did keep it in the dryer for long enough. That and…coffee. The latter was particularly enticing after a wonderfully long sleep, a hot cup of coffee after a cold shower would be the ticket, decided Sam. Shower; function, coffee; fantastic. But shower first, after all, he was a twenty something year old boy with an over active imagination and a Winchester with an over active sex drive, a deadly combination on a road trip.

"Right, we'll be there in an hour." Said Dean clicking the cell phone shut.

"Where are we going?" asked Sam.

Dean sighed and ripped the pillow off Sam's face.

"To see a friend of dad's. Put some pants on we leave in five."

It felt like someone had knocked down his house of cards, a phone call wrecked the affectionate moment he'd waited for, for nine and a half months. Just now Sam thought that Dean was going to forgive him for going to college, guess not.


	3. Bird Watching

A/N: Argh! I'm sorry this took me hyper long to write! But I promise I have some serious angst to share with you. Eat it up, guys! Oh and my chapterly shout out to Dancing Fiyero who came up with a) the party monster segment and b) the you can't answer a question with a question…yeah, kinda all the funny parts. sigh

Bird Watching 

"Dean!" Sam skidded on his knees in the moss and dirt to where his brother was now lying. Dean's face was scrunched up, mouth half open but whatever he was going to say was lost in a pained moan. Blood streaked the front of his gray t-shirt, the lines expanded, spread, until red was the predominant color.

"Dean-" Sam was half sobbing, he didn't know what to do. _Breathe_ that's a first step, hyperventilating when your brother's undergoing severe blood loss wouldn't help the situation. He needed to think like Dean, what would he do? Assess the situation. Slowly as he could, Sam lifted the sopping shirt trying hard to ignore that his brother hissed in pain. Four long talon marks caked with dirt, bleeding but not as badly as he originally thought, still, the dirt was a problem. He could get them to a hospital and pass this off as a bear attack, but getting there would prove difficult because the fall did more damage than scratches. Sam had to hand it to Dean, not many people could be dropped from fifty feet up and live to tell the tale, let alone fall gracefully. On the way down, he'd stuck out his hand and grabbed a branch which yanked his arm so hard his shoulder dislocated, at twenty five feet he hit his side on a branch that luckily gave way, and then the ground broke his fall. _Keep him talking._

"What a ride huh?" That was all he could come up with after wracking his brain for five minutes, so much for the Winchester cool under pressure theorem.

"Yeah, I knew there was a reason I hated flying."

_How the hell did you not break ribs? _Sam was slightly baffled, relieved, but baffled as he ran his fingers gently over his brother's body to check for bruising or broken bones. He could already a deep purple spreading beneath the blood and grime, given time and a wet cloth; it'd be a colorful array of greens yellows and blues.

"Hey Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Did I get it?"

"Get what?"

"My dream date," he made a snide face "the flying bat thingy!"

Sam hesitated a long moment. "No."

Dean sunk his head back against the relatively soft ground, a tear leaking from his eyes leaving a streak of skin colored skin instead of grime colored skin.

"You're gonna be fine Dean, and then you can get it, okay?" As he spoke he took a hold of Dean's hand and smiled sympathetically. "You're okay, you're gonna be fine you're alri-" SNAP His brother let out a yowl as his shoulder was snapped back into it's socket.

"Sammy you son of a…fuck…owwie."

"It had to be done dude."

"I hate you."

"It's my fraternal duty, bro."

Sam slipped his arm under Dean head and lifted him onto his lap, softly stroking his hair and kissing his forehead. The elder Winchester tried to say something but it wasn't audible.

"What?" asked Sam quietly.

"Thanks Sammy, now I owe you one… This cuddling is nice and all but I got a cell phone for these kinda occasions, so could you, maybe, I dunno, CALL A FUCKING AMBULANCE!"

"Sure thing."

"Jackass."

"Bitch."

They sat for a while in silence after Sam had made the call, and despite the harsh words each was glad of the others company. Wars of the wits were common place with them, but they never meant what the said…well sometimes, but not often. Truth be told they loved each other more than most brothers did because their lives were on the line if they didn't, people say that family bonds snap together in dire situations…it was a constant dire mire.

Soon the swirling red and white lights approached accompanied by a siren, which made Dean jump slightly as the thought immediately that it was the police. Shock was wearing off and aching had majorly set it, making Dean squirm uncomfortably as the pain increased. A team of medics trotted over with a stretcher and proceeded with practiced care, lifting the injured Winchester carefully, deaf to his whimpers.

"Is he gonna be okay?"

"We haven't had time to assess the situation." Short answer, no. "Are you his partner?"

"Yes." He answered blindly. Dean and Sam had always called each other partner as in 'partner in crime' or partner as in 'when things get tough I'll bail you out, partner.' So this context didn't even cross his mind.

"We'll ask you to accompany him to the hospital now please."

"Yeah, yes of course."

Sammy was numb all over as they bumped down the last stretch of dirt road, like he was watching it in third person. He held his brothers hand though he was long since drugged into blissful oblivion, and as he watched Dean's eyes flick restlessly under his eyelids it occurred to him that his older brother had never been taken care of, not really anyway. His hand twitched jerkily every five seconds or so, which shouldn't be happening considering they'd pumped him full of enough sedatives to send a horse to la-la land, Sam felt helpless, not being able to do anything but sit. Thinking more about "their" childhood Sammy remembered Dean kissing his scrapes after cleaning them with rubbing alcohol, Dean picking him up from little league, Dean driving him to dances, Dean giving him "the talk", and during all that time, where was _Dean's_ childhood? Their dad hunted pretty often, and if he wasn't actually hunting he was researching, so Sam's brother was the real man, and woman of the house. Meals, cleaning, repair, those were all Dean's jobs while Sam was doing homework or being the all around good normal kid he was.

Sam sighed deeply, this was an unnerving revelation. There was nothing to be done about the past, however the present was another story, he was needed here and now and nothing was going to tear him away.

Slowly his eyes opened, muscles being uncooperative as possible. There was a low cold chirp of a monitor and bright light from an open window. This was a hospital. And he was Dean Winchester. He, Dean Winchester was in a hospital because…because…he'd gotten the crap kicked/clawed out of him by a huge flying demon. Oh yeah. Oh great. Dean looked down at his hand, which was hooked up to an IV drip, good old morphine, other than that he only had a few miscellaneous wires poking out of him. Under the rhythm of the beeps he noticed a compulsive clicking. Sam was dismantling and remantling a pen.

"Dude, do you have to take apart everything you see?"

"Why not?"

"Why, though?"

"Why not?"

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"Ugh, you can't answer a question with a question!"

"…Why not?" A wide smile broke out over Sam face, literally ear to ear. Something else, Dean perceived something that made him look younger and older all at once. His eyes were welled up with tears, the boldest ones leaking down his cheeks. Tears would do it.

"Woah, Sammy? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said wiping his eyes and nose on his sleeve. "It's just, I'm glad you're awake, I'm glad you're okay."

Not meaning to, Dean felt touched. Something about the way Sam had left for university made Dean doubt, ever so slightly, that Sam really wanted him around. It was just like, WHOSH he was gone, packed and away, it be honest it felt a little more than awful. But seeing Sam's eyes full to the brims and shinning in the artificial light made him feel good inside in a strange way, it made him feel wanted.

"I'm fine as long as the drugs keep coming." He managed a smirk. "Hey? Is my nurse cute?"

"Sure, if you like guys named Bruno."

"Why God? Not even now do a get even a teensy weensy break of luck!"

"You did." Said Sam from the chair beside the hospital cot.

"Huh?"

"You did get a break. You've been out for a week, it could have been longer by a long shot." There wasn't any humor in Sam's voice, he was deeply disturbed by this situation, by almost losing his brother.

"Shit, good thing." He gave a general thumbs up to the ceiling. "Thanks big guy."

Sam had obviously been sleeping in the room for a few nights at least. Their leather duffel bags were tossed into the corner, the car keys were on the bedside table… those were really all their personal effects.

"How long?"

"A week."

"No, how long do I have to stay in here?"

"A month or so, plus regular visits for physio for your shoulder, you did some real damage."

"A month, as in four weeks, thirty one days, seven hundred and forty four hours, 44,640 minutes?"

"Those are the magic numbers."

"Greeeeat." He flicked on the TV with his bedside remote. "We better get porn in here."

Sam laughed wearily. From the look of his clothes and his face, which was covered in thick stubble, he'd been in that same chair for days. His shirt was wrinkled to high hell and his jeans were stained with days old coffee, Sam never looked this disheveled. But in an odd way, it was a nice break, for both of them now that Dean was awake and seemingly okay. No demons, no ghosts or monsters, just brothers.

Three weeks later both Winchesters had taken up residence in the hospital, though Sam wasn't staying there under regulation of course. A nurse came in to Dean's room about a week before telling Sam ever so gently that visitors couldn't stay over night and he wasn't able to wiggle the hours with her. Here's where Dean teaching the manly art of flirting came in very handy, he looked as charmingly pathetic as possible and smiled.

"_Look, please? He's all I have now, ditto for him. I don't want him to wake up to being totally alone okay?"_

"_I'm sorry sir, but he won't be alone, this facility is well staffed. You can't stay."_

_Sam's mask was melting away because he wasn't putting on a show anymore, this was all true. He didn't even want to know how Dean would feel waking up alone. He looked at the nurse with an honestly heart breaking stare. "Please." Childhood memories flashed in front of his Sam's eyes like every time that Sam ever woke up sacred and how concerned Dean would look. Dean would always check under his bed and when the younger brother still lay awake not making a sound Dean would 'pssst' and lift his own blanket covers and let Sam snuggle in with Dean's arms wrapped around him. That's why he was staying, it was about time that someone looked after Dean, so now when he woke up disoriented and drugged Sam could hold his hand and reassure him._

"_Please." He said again, shaking himself from his thoughts._

"_You two must really be in love, huh?"_

"_In love?" Sam spluttered, disbelieving. "We're not in love, we're brothers!"_

"_Oh!" said the nurse as her cheeks turned rosy pink. Actually it was a very pretty color on her Sam mused. _

"_Well, I'll se what I can do, but don't get your hopes up."_

"_Gotcha." But as she turned to leave Sam called after her. "Hey, thanks. Really, thanks."_

"_You just be glad you got the sentimental nurse sweetie. Do you want a coffee or something? You know, just while I'm out, I need to be back here soon anyway."_

"_Sure. Ummm, can I ask you something?"_

"_Shoot."_

"_What's your name?"_

"_Jessie." Sam's face blanched. What a coincidence. Her name was Jessica_

"_Nice to meet you Jessica-Jessie" He corrected himself._

"_Only my mom call me Jessica and even then, only when she's mad."_

"_Jessie then."_

_Dean stirred beside them, blearily opening his eyes and rubbing his face._

"_Hey, you still here?"_

"_Yeah, Dean, and I will be for a while."_

"_I'll see you to handsome boys in a little while." Laughed Jessie turning out of the room waving as she went._

"_Ooh, I like her." Dean's eyes instantly brightened._

"_Me too."_

_Sam sat for a while in silence watching his brother watch TV, he really didn't appreciate how much he loved seeing Dean's nose crinkle when he laughed or any of his other expressions for that matter. Even now when he was supposed to be looking after his brother Sam couldn't help but feel a little comforted by Dean's presence._

"_Hey Dean?"_

"_Yuh-huh? This better be good, I've only seen this Flintstones' a hundred times."_

"_Do you hate me?"_

"_What? Sammy no! I don't hate you! Why would you say that?" Dean sat fully up taking his brothers shoulders forcing him to look him in the eyes._

"_It's just…I got to play base ball, and I got to have a sandbox and do well on tests and go to dances, you were looking after me all the time weren't you?"_

"_Yeah, but I wouldn't have it…well I would have liked all those things but it's not how I was raised. I wasn't raised to…boy you ask hard questions." Dean smiled sadly. "Let's leave it at I love you okay?"_

"_Okay."_

_It was hard for Dean to listen to this, how could Sam doubt that he loved him? Sam's shoulders were bouncing as he sobbed as quietly as he could. _

"_Come'ere."_

_Just on habit alone Sam crawled on the cot and gave Dean a hug. _

"Yes!" Cried Dean jumping up and down, doing something that looked like a drunken jig. "I'm free! Free!"

There was a gaggle of female nurses waving goodbye morosely at the sliding glass doors. At the front of the crowd was Jessie, hands on her hips looking as I-don't-take-no-bullshit as ever.

Sam smiled as watched his brother jumps around like a crazy person before he turned to Jessie.

"Thanks for everything."

"No problem, now get that pain in the ass bundle of testosterone off hospital property before I drug him onto silence again." Deceptively harsh words for someone wiping tears away from her cheeks.

"Will do." Sam smirked and kissed her cheek hastily and walking away.

"That's not gonna fly Sam." She said yanking him back by his coat sleeve and planting a firm kiss on his lips, lingering a little longer than was fair. "Goodbye Sam."

"Bye."

From across the corridor Sam heard a shout of "MY CAR!" apparently Dean had found the parking lot.

"My poor baby, did you miss me? I missed you, yes I did."

"You can't drive yet, you know that right?"

"The hell I can't, she's an extension of my soul. We were born to be together."

"Just until the highway, then I drive."

"You just want to get your grubby mitts on my girl."

"Maybe."

They laughed together happy to finally be out in something that wasn't florescent lights. Something nagged at Sam that told him that'd be their last break in a long time.

Thanks for reading! Don't worry there's still much to come (let's just say Vampires and New York) I hope you liked this chapter please Review!


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